


The Houseguest

by PawPunk



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Cannibalism, Child Death, Creepypasta, Gen, Horror, Original Character Death(s), Sleepovers, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 05:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17822807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawPunk/pseuds/PawPunk
Summary: Elmer is invited to friends house, and things don't go exactly as planned. Creepypasta based very loosely off Newsies. You do not need to have seen Newsies to understand this fic.





	The Houseguest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IoccasionallyWriteStories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IoccasionallyWriteStories/gifts).



> WARNING: this is a horror story. It features graphic descriptions of cannibalism, blood, and the death of a child, but is also not as bad as you'd think after reading that. Thanks to my buddies for helping me come up with the plot and proofreading it!

_ Ding dong! _ The doorbell rang merrily as I pressed it. Warm orange light shone out the windows of the house, illuminating the half-melted snow and month-old Christmas decorations in the yard. I hoped that Alex would open the door soon--even with my jacket, it was freezing cold out. I hugged my overnight bag close to my body in a vain attempt to keep warm.

Finally, the door opened. “Oh, you must be Elmer!” said a woman who was probably Alex’s mom. I nodded. 

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me come over,” I said, shifting from foot to foot.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she laughed merrily. There was a short but awkward silence. “Come on in.”

Alex’s house was larger than anywhere I had ever lived. The first floor was a few steps up from the entryway, to make more room for the enormous game room and entertainment system in the basement. I heard Alex thunder down them as I pulled off my snowy boots.

“Hey El!” he half-shouted. “C’mon, hurry up, I wanna show you something really cool!” He grabbed my bag for me and led me up the stairs, down the hall to his room. 

“So, what is it?” I asked, once the door was closed behind us. Alex shushed me and pulled a book with a rotting hand on the cover out from under his bed.

“Mom n’ dad didn’t want me to check it out. They said it would be “too scary” and we “wouldn’t be able to sleep”,” Alex mocked. We laughed--we were both officially teenagers as of November, and it would take a lot more than a few creepy stories to keep us up at night!

“Lets play chicken,” I suggested. Alex tilted his head. “We take turns reading stories, and whoever asks to stop first loses.”

“Sounds cool,” Alex grinned. “But we have to do it after dark, or else it won’t be any fun.”

“Deal,” I said. Alex hid the book back under his bed, and we left the room. 

We watched movies until Alex’s mom poked her head downstairs and told us to come out for dinner. It was only 7 PM, but since it was winter the windows only showed inky blackness. I walked up the stairs a little faster than normal, my socks slipping on the hardwood floor.

When I got upstairs, Alex’s dad was placing a huge dish of spicy, garlicky, rich brisket on the table. “Hey Elmer, get yourself some water or soda,” he said, grinning broadly. I poured a cup of water from the pitcher and sat down at the table. Alex and his parents immediately began passing around food, serving each other and pouring drinks. It felt like a well-oiled machine that I wasn’t supposed to be part of.

“So, Elmer,” Alex’s mom said, passing me a heaping plate of brisket, salad, and potatoes. “Alex told us you were joining the trivia team?”

“Yeah, I am,” I muttered, pushing my food around on the plate.

“You oughta take a leaf out of his book,” Alex’s dad told him through a mouthful of food. Alex rolled his eyes.

“I told you dad, he’s the brains, I’m the beauty.” I snorted, prompting Alex’s parents to look over at me.

“Why aren’t you eating?” his mom asked. “How are you going to grow if you don’t eat?”

“We could get you something else,” his dad offered. I took a few bites of the salad, which seemed to satisfy them, although I did see them glance over at my plate a few more times during the meal.

Finally, dinner was over. Alex and I cleared our plates, made eye contact and dashed to his room. I pulled the book out from under the bed and opened it up. Suddenly, the lights flickered out, and I stifled a shriek.

“What, are you scared already?” Alex laughed from the darkness. He shuffled around in the dark, until a flashlight beam suddenly illuminated the room.

“No,” I huffed. “I wanna read first, though.” Alex passed me the flashlight, and I flipped to the table of contents, trying to find a good story to read. Finally, I discovered one that I was sure would scare Alex.

“There was a man who loved to eat liver,” I began, trying to hold the flashlight so it illuminated both my face and the page I was reading. “Every day, his wife cooked him liver for lunch.”

I continued to read the story, using everything my drama teacher told me to make it as frightening as possible. As I read, I could see Alex’s eyes widen and his jaw set, but he didn’t interrupt me.

“Nobody saw the zombie ever again after that,” I concluded. “But nobody saw his wife, either.”

“You call that scary?” Alex said. “Gimme that, I’ll show you scary!”

After Alex was done with his story, I picked another. I chose the most gruesome stories I could find--ones with serial killers, kidnappings, and cannibalism. Eventually, I think I freaked Alex out, because he asked if we could stop before we finished the book.

“It’s not because I’m scared,” he insisted. “I’m just tired, is all. We can finish the stories another time.”

As I lay in my sleeping bag, the stories started to take effect. I think I did a better job scaring myself than Alex did, because I kept remembering the first story I had read. Even though I knew it wasn’t real, the image of the husband tearing out his wife’s liver to appease a corpse stuck with me. I shifted over, trying to focus on Alex’s breathing.

Finally, just after midnight, I silently unzipped my sleeping bag and crept out of Alex’s room. I padded silently across the living room and up the stairs, until I stood at the door to Alex’s parents’ room. Pressing my ear to the door, I listened for any signs of wakefulness. The room was silent. 

Carefully, I opened the door. The room was pitch black except for the light of a digital clock. I snuck over to the side of the bed. The green light illuminated Alex’s mom’s face just barely. 

“Are you awake?” I whispered. Alex’s mom didn’t stir. Slowly, carefully, I peeled back the covers.

She didn’t wake when I bit her. They never do. The venom numbs the area long enough for me to do what I need to do. Blood rushed from the wound, up through my fangs, and into my veins. I shuddered as blood coursed through me, my pulse stronger than it had been in weeks.

After a few minutes, I forced myself to stop. I knew from experience that if I took too much blood, my victim would notice, and then there would be pitchforks and torches and all sorts of unpleasant things. I licked the last drops off the wound as it scabbed over--another job the venom did--and pulled the covers over Alex’s mom again.

I felt stronger than I had in ages, but I still wasn’t full. Walking out of the bedroom, I went to find Alex’s dad. It didn’t take me long to find him, as the quiet sound of the television drifted from downstairs. I carefully peered over the bannister, judging if he had heard me. 

The man was slumped on the couch, snoring softly. Smiling, I crept down the stairs and over to him. I froze as he shifted in his sleep, but luckily didn’t wake. I slid the remote out from under his hand and muted the TV before sinking my fangs into his neck as well. He grunted in his sleep, but soon the venom acted on him as well.

As I finished my share of his blood, I heard soft footsteps follow me down the basement stairs. I whipped around to see Alex, a look of total shock on his face. As I turned, I must’ve torn a little more of his dad’s skin, because a trickle of blood dribbled out of my mouth.

“Elmer?” he stuttered. “W- what are you doing?” I wiped the blood off my face, but it was too late. He had seen it. 

“I…” I started. Alex carefully walked to the other side of the room. He peered at the glistening wound on his father’s neck, still oozing slightly. “I need the blood. It doesn’t hurt him.”

“No, no, no,” Alex was whispering. “No, shit, this can’t be happening. My best goddamn friend is  _ insane _ .” 

“I’m not!” I protested, a little too loud. Alex’s dad didn’t stir--he wouldn’t for another hour or so--which only made Alex grow paler with fright. Suddenly, he turned and sprinted for the stairs.

I vaulted over the sofa and followed him. He had a head start, but I was stronger, faster, now that I had borrowed from his parents. I caught him a few feet away from where his phone was charging on the living room table.

“Let go of me!” he shouted. I clapped a hand over his mouth. He screamed against it, thrashing about on the floor. I held his arms behind his back and flipped him onto his back, holding him down with my weight while I caught my breath. 

When I looked back at Alex, his eyes were wide with desperation. Tears were starting to bead at the corners of his eyes as he slowly realized he wouldn’t be able to escape on his own. I opened my mouth over his throat, and he whimpered a muffled “please” around my hand. I almost felt bad as I sunk my teeth into his jugular.

He didn’t go out right away--he kicked weakly at me for a few seconds before the venom overpowered the adrenaline and he stilled. I didn’t take any blood--he was my friend, after all. I knelt beside him and hoisted him onto my shoulders. His legs trailed on the ground as I dragged him back to his room and dumped him back onto his bed. I washed the blood off my face and hand in the bathroom, then zipped myself into my sleeping bag again.

A few minutes later, I sat up. No, this wouldn’t do. Alex would remember what happened in the morning (especially when he saw the marks on his and his parent’s necks), and then the sun would keep me from running away. Even if people didn’t believe in vampires anymore, the police wouldn’t hesitate to arrest a psychotic middle schooler who went around biting people on the neck. 

I stood and walked over to Alex’s sleeping form. His face looked calm, but there was a trace of panic just under the surface. I brushed a lock of copper hair away from his neck and braced myself. I would have to go back to living in the woods for a few decades after this, but it was less risky than letting him run around telling everyone I drank blood.  _ You’ll forget him soon _ , I reminded myself, before opening the wound on his neck again.

The second bite made his heart beat hard and fast, thumping like a cricket trapped in the palm of my hand. My own heartbeat began to strengthen as I sucked more and more blood. This time, I didn’t stop when I drained the first litre. Nor when I drained a second. Neither of us would have to worry about Alex feeling dizzy when he woke up.

Soon, I began to feel uncomfortably full. My heartbeat thundered distractingly in my ears, and my body felt like a soft, jiggly water balloon. I didn’t like wasting blood, though, and if I was going to end a life, I might as well make the most of it. Finally, Alex’s heart stopped, and I pulled my fangs out. 

He looked so small and pale, so tragic now he was dead. My heart twisted with guilt and the sudden influx of blood. Before I could think too much, I arranged his limbs so he could be mistaken for asleep. Covering him with a blanket, I scooped up my overnight bag and left the room as quickly as possible.

On the way out, I glanced at my hands to make sure I didn’t have any bloodstains on me. My hands were oddly red, my fingers looked plumper, my veins bulged slightly out of my wrist. Other than that, I looked completely ordinary--probably more so than before I had fed. I looked like a regular human child now. I pulled on my boots and coat at the door, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and left the house.

Alex’s house was pretty far away from the woods I knew best. The old forest had a lot of dense, rotting trees, so people didn’t usually visit it, and there was an old shed in the center where I could hide from the light. But I wouldn’t be safe anywhere near here once they found Alex--I would have to go further, find a new abandoned building to hide in. The moon lit my way as I left my friend’s house. The walk would be long, but it was a while until sunrise.


End file.
